


I'm Meaner Than My Demons

by orphan_account



Series: Sugar Sweet (OT3, ABO) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Feels, Lack of Communication, Language, Loss, M/M, Multi, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance hoped that things would go back to normal after his heat. After all Keith and Shiro had each other and he just wants all the weirdness that being off of suppressants brings (wanting to constantly touch the spot Shiro bit him. How weak his legs get when he catches Keith staring at him. Being able to smell people.) to stop. He doesn't want to deal with any of it and it would be nice if the universe could help him out on that front. </p><p>It doesn't.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7271848">You Taste Like Sugar</a> </p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Meaner Than My Demons

**Author's Note:**

> And we're off. I'll be adding tags as we go/they become relevant but if you're sensitive to discussions of/mentioned Mpreg or references to past consensual sex between minors and past non-con (none shown, but talked about) then beware because, while I'm sort of winging it, those will come up. 
> 
> Title is from Hasley's song control. 'Sugar' was a nod to Lance and this title too is a nod to one of the three boys. Which one? Well. That is the question.

Keith yawned as he stepped back into the bedroom, lips quirking up involuntarily at the sight of Shiro, sleep rumpled and droopy eyes, sprawled out on the bed like a starfish. In the time since Keith had left the sheets had been kicked around and ended up tangled around one of Shiro’s legs and waterfalling over the bed’s edge to the floor. The morning sun, barely risen or strong enough for it’s light to make it through the dust covered windows, cast a weak glow over Shiro’s skin

Shiro lifted his head, blinking soft gray eyes at him then lifted a hand to beckon him over. He came without hesitation, crawling onto the bed then up between the alpha’s spread legs. His scent was heavier now than it usually was, like it always was when he first woke up, warm and inviting and a little like burnt ozone; it made Keith think of the desert air after a storm.

He stopped when he was eyelevel with Shiro’s crotch and, looking up to hold the alpha’s gaze, nuzzled against his erection. Shiro’s clothes, save his shirt, were strewn on the floor of the small cabin, making a path from the front door to the bedroom. His shirt, however, was on Keith. He’d grabbed it before stumbling out to the bathroom, buttoned it haphazardly. It wasn’t a modesty thing, more the opposite actually.

Shiro wasn’t like other alphas, more patient, easy going, less territorial (which was to say he wasn’t at all) slow to anger and (he claimed) not the kind to get possessive. He didn’t think that because he’d spent a few heats with someone or had snuck out of the barracks a few times to make out that he was entitled to them. Keith had known alphas who did think like that growing up, the early presenters who set their sights on younger omegas, ready to snap them up at the first sign of a heat and thought that meant they owned them.

The foster system wasn’t, Keith had learned once he’d gotten out of it, like the rest of the world where everyone got on suppressants early and no one ever talked about what they were, in the name of equality, except to someone they intended to sleep with. Everyone had known what everyone else was; supposedly it was a safety tactic, to make sure that omegas could be watched for their first heat and alphas for their rut for the sake of omega safety. Teenagers weren’t exactly known for impulse control and that went doubly for young alphas; they could be wild, unable to control all the animal impulses, and for a young omega that could spell danger, especially in those first few heats or confronted with an alpha in rut.

Being aware of people’s dynamics was supposed to prevent that and Keith supposed it was a good idea on paper. In practice however it just caused problems, with kids sticking to same-dynamic groups, omegas learning to fear alphas and their heats, and alphas learning that they were to be feared and had the power. To foster kids, a lot of them from bad places where they’d been hurt or felt like everything was against them, suddenly hearing they were the big bad thing was the best news they’d ever heard.

Those alphas turned into pricks who thought they could take whatever they wanted and didn’t care much about the consequences.

The Galaxy Garrison was a lot better in comparison, in that most people didn’t make a big deal out of their secondary gender. There were some alphas though, the big loud types who wanted to throw their weight around and used being an alpha as a little extra something, who made sure everywhere knew what they were.

But never Shiro.

That didn’t, however, mean he didn’t have certain alpha traits or was totally without some of those quirks. Keith noticed the way his eyes narrowed, just for a moment, when he noticed it was his shirt he was wearing. His shirt, with his lingering scent transferring over to Keith, an acknowledgement that at least for the moment Keith was his.

It was as close to possessive as Shiro was ever likely to get being the enlightened alpha, with a proper upbringing under the careful eye of his omega mother, that he was. Not counting when he was in rut but that was a completely different beast.

Emphasis on the beast.

Shiro smiled, wide and easy in a way that never failed to make Keith avert his eyes, and brushed back his hair from his face then slid down to cup his cheek. “Morning.”

Keith responded by wrapping his hand loosely around the base of Shiro’s erection and nosing at his thigh. He licked over the secondary scent gland then bit down lightly on the bit of raised raised flesh. Shiro jerked minutely then sighed as he swept his thumb over Keith’s jaw.

“Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep. “Feeling better?”

Keith shrugged. “Good enough.”

Shiro raised a skeptical eyebrow; Keith nipped at his gland again. The last thing he wanted to talk about was how he'd spent most of Shiro’s last week before his mission to Kerberos sick. In fact he wasn't really in the mood to talk at all if he could get away with it.

Talking had a chance of leading to things like him admitting he didn't want Shiro to go, had never wanted him to go, and was just faking all that enthusiasm and had been since the alpha had told him about it. Not that he wasn’t proud of Shiro; it wasn’t everyone who got picked for a major space exploration mission before they’d even officially graduated from Galaxy Garrison, but then Shiro wasn’t everyone. It was just...he didn’t like. He had a terrible feeling about the mission, for starters and he knew it was because the thought of being apart was fucking with his head, keeping him up at night, and making him wish that…

He licked the head of Shiro’s cock then, when the alpha grunted, wrapped his lips around the tip. This was a much better use of his mouth than pointless last hour confessions. Shiro was heavy and hot against his tongue, the shape familiar to his mouth. He sucked and licked at the head, dipping into the slit, then trailed kisses, open mouthed and wet, along the shaft.

He licked his way back up then licked over the tip again, bitterness blending with the taste of skin on his tongue. He wrapped his lips around Shiro’s cock again and sucked lightly; the alpha sighed his name and Keith could feel his thighs, held open by his hands, flexing under his touch.

“Keith.” There was something sweet, and almost reverent, about the way Shiro rasped his name and touched his face. It made his stomach twist and his heart skip a beat.

There were moments he hated how easily he responded to Shiro, how he wanted so desperately to be near him, wanted to practically live in the alpha’s skin, how completely the alpha had become so much to him. Hated that he wanted to be his, let Shiro mark him and keep him, to keep Shiro and never let anyone else near him. He hated that he went soft and pliant with Shiro, and not when they having sex but just when they were together, watching stupid TV and laughing, shoulders touching and fingers tangled together. He hated that he liked those moments, the way he smiled for Shiro and the way Shiro smiled for him.

He couldn’t see himself being like that for anyone else, ever, and the awareness of what that might mean made his chest hurt. He hated that too.

What he didn't hate was sucking Shiro’s dick so, hoping his hair was hiding that just Shiro saying his name had made him blush, he stopped teasing. He took more of Shiro into his mouth, hollowed out his cheeks as he sucked and swallowed around him just how he knew the alpha liked. Shiro moaned quietly and warmth washed over Keith.

Fuck, he loved this.

It wasn't just the act itself that he enjoyed so much (though he would have been lying if he said he didn't like having Shiro in his mouth) but the way Shiro reacted. The way he unfolded and unwound, relaxing under Keith’s attention then letting some of that careful control slip away never failed to make his heart beat harder and send blood racing south.

This time was no different. Every stroke of his tongue, the way he kept it pushed up against the underside and swept it along the vein there, made Shiro shiver underneath him. He sucked and swallowed around him, took him in deep then bobbed back up with filthy sounding slurping noises to swirl his tongue around the tip of Shiro’s cock, and was rewarded with twitches of the alpha’s hips and wet shakey groans. It was all great, had him burning up under his skin and rutting against the sheets to relieve some of the pressure building up inside of him.

He liked all of that, memorized every movement and sound happily, but it was when Shiro growled softly and threaded his fingers through his hair, yanking then holding as he thrust up in his mouth, that made Keith moan along with him. It was when his hand dropped further to curl around the back of his neck and squeeze that made him eyes fall shut as warmth coiled low in his stomach.

He liked knowing that he could pull those little alpha quirks up, make Shiro get lost enough to get a little forceful and touch him in ways that a polite alpha wouldn't. He liked making Shiro feel good, found it satisfying in the same way the alpha paying attention to him over others (over the people Keith couldn’t help but considering competition) was satisfying.

Satisfying In the same way standing close to Shiro and baring his teeth in a way he knew other omega’s and interested betas would read ‘off limits’ from. He kept a lid on it at the Garrison, had done it when they’d both been cadets and worked even harder at it now when Shiro was around playing instructor, but he didn’t do as well other places.

He opted to not think about why he did things like that when he could avoid it or why Shiro never did anything other than smile and shake his head, clearly amused, when it happened.

Shiro’s thrust up again, tip of his dick bumping against the back of Keith’s throat. He swallowed, relaxed his throat, let him slide deeper, and dug his nails into Shiro’s skin. He knew he shouldn’t, marks were going to be a pain to explain when Shiro went through his pre-launch exam, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to leave his mark.

He was content to let Shiro fuck his mouth, sucking as best he could as the alpha pushed in until Keith was nosing at the wiry hairs around his cock and gurgling out wet sounds. Shiro went still, cock twitching in his mouth, until Keith was dizzy and his throat was tightening as he tried to swallow and breath. Drool leaked out from the corners of his mouth, mixed with bitter precum on his tongue, and ran down his chin. Shiro’s hips went down, let air in, and then his throat was pushed up into again, a slow press and then just holding there.

He didn’t choke, had taught himself not to because it freaked Shiro out, but when Shiro fell back, cock slipping from between his lips with a wet pop, it was all he could do to not suck in air like a drowning man. Shiro’s squeezed the back of his neck again then his hand slide up to pull at his hair.

“Up here.”

Keith let himself be dragged up over Shiro’s body and into a kiss, their torsos pressed together and cocks bumping. It was messy, Shiro’s tongue mapping out his mouth while his hands moved over Keith’s back, scratched through the shirt then pulled it up. His ass was grasped, squeezed and kneaded as he rolled his hips to rub their dicks together.

When Shiro’s thumb pressed against his entrance he felt the jolt of surprise from the other teen and saw the way his eyes darkened

“You’re already-”

Keith smirked against Shiro’s lips. “What did you think I was doing in the bathroom?”

Some male omegas could get wet outside of heat as easily as they got hard, even when on suppressants, but Keith wasn’t one of them. Not that he couldn’t at all but, so far, Shiro was the only person he’d slept with willing to put in the time to get him to that point. And, as much as he liked riding the alpha’s fingers or tongue, he also liked the hungry look in Shiro’s eyes when he realized Keith had planned ahead and gotten himself ready.

The alpha made a noise like Keith, or rather the thought of Keith getting himself ready for him, was hurting him. Then he wiggled away, leaving Keith to trail his mouth and tongue along his collarbone, and made an attempt to reach the bedside dresser that didn’t even come close. Another swipe and a frustrated noise and Keith snickered before shaking his head.

“It’s fine, leave it.” He pushed himself up then moved so he was straddling Shiro. The alpha made what Keith knew was his ‘not sure I approve face’ but his next move was to run his hands over Keith’s thighs.

Condoms were more to handle ‘messes’ than anything else. They were both clean, not sleeping with anyone else, and Keith made use of the garrison being happy to provide birth control to anyone who sought it out. But, sometimes, Keith was in the mood for the mess, wanted all of Shiro in him, and this was one of those times. It was similar to how he felt when he was in heat and desperate to be full of Shiro, his cock, his knot, his cum, but different.

Keith started to reach to undo to buttons of the shirt but, before he could, Shiro surged up and flipped them so he was on his back, blinking up into lust darkened eyes. “Keep it on.”

Keith shivered and nodded eagerly. “Whatever you want.”

Shiro’s eyes flashed with heat and then he was on him, mouth latched onto his neck, biting lightly at his scent gland while his hands tugged his hips up, positioned him just right and

\----

Keith sat up, gasping for air. He bent forward, one arm curled tight around his stomach and fumbling in the dark with his other hand, searching for...he doesn't know what. Another person, maybe, or perhaps the knife he kept under his pillow or just anything that wasn't smooth sheets and the too soft mattress underneath him.

He felt sick, stomach lurching as a disgustingly sour taste rose up in the back of his throat.

He gagged, throat convulsing and stomach continuing to roil, then coughed. His eyes were hot and prickling painfully; he shut them and swallowed, willing himself to not be sick.

He needed something to ground him, to remind him of where he is, to chase the dream away. He felt like he might fall apart otherwise, sink back into the dream and never claw his way out and he couldn't afford to do that. He touched the wall then leaned against it, cool metal against his overheated skin, and breathed.

He was hard and wet, arousal undaunted by how awful he was feeling, dick straining in his briefs and slick sliding down over his skin. His heat was getting close; even if he didn’t track it carefully (as careful as he could in space when night and day cycles were on Altean time and marked by lights getting brighter or darker) he would have known by the fact he’d basically leaked through his underwear.

He didn’t do that when his heat wasn’t impending or happening, his body didn’t work that way.

He had a feeling Lance, on the other hand, was the sort of omega who got wet and weak kneed if the wind blew right, or would now that the suppressants were out of his system. There was just something about him, in his scent and the way he’d responded so prettily to both him and Shiro, melted under them, taken what they offered so eagerly-

Lance wasn’t the first omega he’d been attracted to; if Keith was being strictly honest his taste had always skewed more that way with Shiro as a very big exception to that rule. So he was...good at reading other omegas, at looking them over, breathing them in, and knowing just want they wanted and needed. Some of it was that he knew himself, had all that intimate omega knowledge alphas and betas never would, and some of it was just dedication to a subject he was interested in.

He would have liked to know what Lance was like outside of heat, if he’d still make those same noises and lean into Keith, open up for him while blushing and averting his eyes. He wanted to know lots of things about Lance.

Wanted him, mostly.

Unfortunately Lance had been avoiding him for the past three weeks. He didn’t argue with him as much, sat far away from both him and Shiro during meals, wouldn’t meet their eyes when he couldn't avoid talking to them. They still trained and fought together, though Keith had noticed that Lance’s part of the Voltron connection felt a little ‘out of synch’ for lack of a better term. Just a little slower, a little behind, but so far nothing that had caused them trouble.

But he’d noticed.

Shiro had noticed too but had told Keith to leave it alone and let Lance be. Keith didn’t know how Shiro was managing to just tolerate Lance turning tail and running when he saw them in the hallways or hiding out in Hunk’s room every night (That, in particular, set Keith’s teeth on edge and made him want to throw Lance down and-) If it had been anyone else, any other alpha, Keith would have ignored it but Shiro had always been able to make him listen, to subdue him, without really trying.

It would be more useful, in Keith’s opinion, if Shiro could turn some of that alpha ‘control’ onto Lance and get him to stop acting like he was afraid they were going to do something horrible to him. He didn’t know what the fuck was up with Lance and it wasn’t like he’d gotten a chance to ask.

Keith sighed and climbed off of his bed, nose wrinkling at the way his underwear were plastered to his body. Once upon a time he’d already be sharing a bed with Shiro at this point, letting the alpha get him through all the annoying pre-heat shit. They’d spent a few heats together before Keith had joined up with the Galaxy Garrison and gotten on suppressants, enough of them that he had an expectation of Shiro seeking him out as soon as he could smell it coming on.

Shiro should have bitten him, carried him off, and fucked him stupid by now, but he hadn’t so Keith was...keeping to himself as far as that went.

Maybe Shiro wasn’t interested anymore. It wasn’t like they’d been bonded, they hadn’t even really been anything more than friends who had a lot of sex so it wasn’t as if Shiro owed him anything. They were still friends, at least he thought they were, so maybe that was all there was now. (Keith’s chest hurt like when he’d heard Shiro was dead when he thought that) Shiro hadn’t shown any indication that he was before Lance’s heat so maybe it had just been close proximity to an omega in heat that had changed things.

He didn’t know what Shiro was thinking or feeling. Once he’d been able to read the alpha better than he could read himself but now...now Shiro was a mystery to him. He did things Keith didn’t understand, acted in ways that were different from before, said strange things and Keith understood that what he’d been through must have been hell, that it had changed him.

He just…

It didn’t matter. He’d stay by Shiro’s side no matter what, as his friend or otherwise. Anything was better than when he’d thought Shiro, his only real friend and the closest thing he had to family, was dead. After that he was pretty sure he could deal with anything.

Including a heat alone. It wasn't his preference but he wasn’t hopeless or inexperienced like Lance was. He knew how to get through without making himself sick or becoming a helpless lump.

Though, for now, a cold shower was in order. He didn't want to jerk off after *that*.

Probably wouldn’t be able to sleep either.

Maybe a late night sparring session with one of the drones was in order.

After he showered.

Hours and a dozen or so rounds with one of the training bots later, sweaty, aching, head pounding, and tired, he slunk into the kitchen to grab something to eat. He expected everyone else to already be eating together, which would allow him to sneak in and out without being spotted.

He couldn’t even work up the necessary emotion to be surprised when Lance, bent over what served as a refrigerator for the castle, stood up and yelped at the sight of him. The other omega practically jumped up onto the table he was so startled then, as soon as he’d managed to pull himself together some, looked towards the door like he was seriously considering just running for it.

Keith rolled his eyes. Interested in Lance or not he wasn’t interested in dealing with his shit. He pushed past him, intent on getting to the cupboard that held the bowls, without a sound.

“...you smell different.” Lance’s voice was pitched softer than Keith could remember ever hearing it, none of the bluster or anger he was used to present.

“Heat soon.” Keith grunted. Heat made omegas smell a little sweeter, supposedly to be more appealing to alphas; he’d never met one who smelled like a candy store like Lance did (even now, 3 weeks later, there was a deep sugary note to Lance that made Keith’s mouth water) but the basics were always the same.

“Oh.” Lance hadn’t moved, which meant they touched again when Keith went for the ‘Goo Machine’; the bare skin of his arm tingled where the back of Lance’s hand brushed against it and he couldn't stop himself from inhaling a little deeper. He could almost taste Lance on his tongue. Wanted to. Didn't. Stared at the food machine instead, trying to decide which nozzle looked promising.

After a few seconds of silence Lance spoke again, stumbling over his words. “Are you...okay? I mean. ...you look tired.”

“Fine.” Then, after taking a second to decide he should try to be less...himself, if Lance was actually going to speak to him again. “Bad dreams.”

Bad memories, really, or maybe...no, yeah, that was what that dream was. A bad memory.

Lance shifted then nodded. He mumbled something Keith didn’t catch then scurried out of the kitchen without even sparing him a backwards glance when he called his name. Keith watched him go then sighed; he leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the goo machine and closed his eyes.

Sometimes he missed living in the desert alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is 20 to Keith's 18 and Lance's 17, so Shiro and Keith are 19 and 16/17 in flashbacks, and have known each other since they were 14 and 12. But more about that later.
> 
> http://achryathesecond.tumblr.com/ Come visit me. I talk about my writing and answer questions/will probably be rambling about this universe on occasion Because OH BOY do I have some thoughts.


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